


Postponed Revenge

by SilverSnap420



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Anger, Angst, Attempted Murder, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Flowey (Undertale) Being an Asshole, Multi, Murder, Please bare with me, Polyamory, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Reader is bisexual, Reader just wants to go home, Reader uses female pronouns, Reader-Insert, Revenge, Violence, but isn't OP, i have nothing specific planned, just a few ideas, like hole deep heh, reader has magic, really hit the feelies, she has her own struggles, she's in deep shit, she's just trying to survive, the title will make sense as the plot goes on, this is gonna get sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSnap420/pseuds/SilverSnap420
Summary: Y/n couldn't understand it. One minute, she was making her dinner and heating it in the microwave. The next, she's waking up with a knife embedded in her chest, and has no clue where she was. It just so happened to get even better for her when those who "murdered" her find out she's still alive, chase her through the woods.Y/n, being a complete genius (note the sarcasm), fell into a large gaping hole in the side of a mountain, landing in a soft bed of golden flowers. Just where was she...?This will have multiple chapters
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader, W. D. Gaster/Reader
Comments: 29
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps~!
> 
> I was inspired to start another fanfic (I know, another one lol). I just couldn't resist! Don't worry, the Multiverse Warp isn't abandoned! It just may take awhile, tho. Don't want to give you shit to read.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!:) 
> 
> (srry if its awful lol)

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Bollocks!" she cursed in a quiet hiss. Blood gushed from her chest, oozing onto the rest of her body as her clothes soaked the liquid, staining it crimson. Her mind whirred incoherently, her vision blurred and her head pounding. In her dazed state, the only thing she could acknowledge were her clothes. Who the fuck wore all triple denim with hot pink leggings...? She did, apparently. Most specifically, her awful ensemble included a denim jacket, a denim button up shirt and knee-length denim shorts. Y/n knew she wasn't wearing what she was wearing at that moment a few moments previous. Jeez, that was really a mouthful, wasn't it? Her frazzled mind was making no sense to her, and she had no idea how to retain some semblance of clarity.

Well, no more than the mouthful of blood she was enduring as she laid on the ground. The cheap carpet itched at her exposed flesh, which only added to her discomfort. Wait, why was blood coming out of her chest...?

She strained her neck downwards, her pain indescribable. Y/n was honestly surprised that she hadn't started sobbing and screaming from the pain, but it was as though her head and mouth were refusing to cooperate. Her eyes widened in alarm, her already ashen complexion growing paler as realisation dawned on her face. "What the hell...?" she muttered, gaping at the handle of what she could only assume was a knife.

Why was there a knife in her chest? And how the hell was she still alive?!

Y/n instinctively held the handle in a weak grip, and pulled as hard as she could (which wasn't very much as her strength waned). She gasped as the blade exited her chest, her flesh jagged and her breast bone exposed. She had a sudden urge to vomit from the wretched sight, and this feeling only twisted in her gut further as she watched the wound close by itself.

What kind of crap was that?

Y/n had no idea how she managed to finally sit up, her back leaning against a worn, shit-brown leather couch. As her semi-glazed eyes observed her surroundings, her first thought was that whoever had designed the interior of this shithole should be sacked on the spot. Sickly green walls with clearly hand-painted designs of what she guessed to be flowers (but they were so poorly painted that they looked like the flowers on the Mystery Machine rather than the intended petals of roses). 

She stifled a laugh. She had clearly just been stabbed, was in an unfamiliar environment, and all she was thinking about was the sodding decorating? By all intents and purposes, she should be dead, and she was complaining about whatever the fuck she was wearing? Y/n really had her priorities sorted, didn't she?

The woman heaved herself up, her hand on the arm of the couch. She wobbled and wavered, but soon gained balance (enough to not fall flat on her face, that was). Y/n inhaled and exhaled deeply, attempting to calm her racing thoughts so that she may take appropriate action with the predicament she was faced with. As her mind cleared, she realised a few things. For one, her senses were... really hypersensitive. It was strange... The only way she could describe it, was that it was as though she was using something (being her eyes) that she wasn't accustomed to using, and every nerve had been amped up by one hundred. That was the best way she could describe what she was feeling, really. Y/n didn't particularly understand it herself, so she chose not to dwell on that and to focus on the situation at hand.

She felt that her surroundings were familiar, but for the life of her she couldn't begin to think why. It was... _Uncanny_. Again, she shook herself from that train of thought, willing herself to actually focus. Not only that, but she noted with some profound relief and indescribable emotion bubbling to the surface over the fact that she was able to breath with an ease she hadn't felt in _years_...

Her head also felt rather heavy for some reason, as though there was something weighing down on it (but only something light).

Y/n recalled what she had been doing before having been stabbed. She had put some food in the microwave for her dinner, some leftover kebab she had the previous night. The denim-clad woman then remembered a bright, scorching light singing her hair and burning her face before opening her eyes (clearly she had closed them whilst whatever that was happened). What was that light? And why had it hurt so much...?

No...She _didn't_... She couldn't be _that_ stupid... Right? Yes, she really _fucking_ was! Y/n could have sworn that she remembered to take off the tinfoil, like she had millions of times before. Clearly, she was wrong, if what she just figured out was an explosion was anything to go by. So, death by microwaved kebab, huh? How anticlimactic... Y/n had at least hoped she would have kicked the bucket with far more gusto (or at the very least killed by _that_ problem), but apparently, life liked to remind her about her bad habits of eating takeaway at arse-o'clock at night, and swiftly punished her for it. The idea that she would be killed by it was morbidly ironic in a strangely amusing way.

Well, she acknowledged that rather than it not being life's fault for her misfortune (a shocker in an of itself), it was in fact her own poorly made choice of forgetting to take off the fucking tinfoil. Just how hard was it to remember such a trivial thing? Very hard, apparently. 

That only puzzled her further. How the fuck was she still alive? Why wasn't she just chilling in the darkness, or even burning in the eternal flames of Hell? Not only that, but why did she feel so weird? 

A loud clatter startled her, making her body stiffen and her ears perk. For some inexplicable reason, she knew that she wasn't alone in the house (wait, she was in a house?). What sounded like metal against wood sounded, like something large falling down the stairs. Not wanting to know who or what exactly made that noise, she creeped over to the closest window. She slid it open, quietly jumping out and landing on wet grass. The stars above her twinkled brightly, the moon being the only source of light in what she deduced was a surrounding forest. 

The moonlight revealed a looming shadow in the distance, a mountain dominating the landscape. It was uphill, and the only clear landmark she could make out. As she considered what she should do, a loud masculine voice shouted, "The mage is gone!"

"There she is! Out the window!"

She needed no further prompting as she dashed in the direction of the mountain. The woman didn't know why, but she felt it was the right thing to do. And, the more she thought on it as three pairs of footsteps chased after her, she considered that she may be able to lose them and hide in a cave. Her heart ached as she ran, newly healed chest heaving from the strain of trying to evade their grasp. Y/n didn't have the time to think and consider why they were chasing her, and why they had called her a "mage" of all things. Given the situation, she would have figured that they would have called her something along the lines of "bitch", "cunt" or, her personal favourite, "whore" (as she often found amusement in being called that).

Twigs snapped underfoot, dirt being picked up from the speed at which she ran. It was strange... She knew that she shouldn't have been able to run so fast, and yet there she was, running like an Olympic champion. Although, despite her newfound speed, that didn't stop her pursuers from attempting to match her pace, and they seemed to be doing fairly well.

Her mood soured further when she realised that she couldn't keep up such speed for very much longer, a stitch in her side and her lungs burning. How could she slow them down? Her stamina wasn't that good, so should she-

"SHIT!" she shrieked, her ankle twisting as she was plunged into darkness, gravity weighing heavily in her gut as she continued to fall. Was this finally it...? She miraculously survives an explosive microwave (and by default she guessed she survived _that_ , but she would have to wait to be sure), being stabbed, but then a random-arse hole finally did her in? That was truly pathetic.

Y/n anticipated being horrifically manged from the sharp drop, but was surprised when it felt as though pillows had caught her fall. Her breathing was erratic, sweat dripping down her forehead and neck as she stared upwards, the stars still visible. It reminded her of someone she was acquainted with, their common saying that "you can't see the stars without the darkness"...

What a load of old shit.

She had no idea how she should react at that moment, but she was in too much shock. If Y/n was being honest with herself, she hadn't felt, well, anything in such a long while. The numbness she was familiar with, but the emotions that were filling her heart were overwhelming. For the first time in a long time, despite what had just transpired, she was feeling something she hadn't felt in ages: hope. It didn't really make sense to her, especially due to being stuck in a hole, but she was feeling hopeful. Although, the more she thought on it, it did at least make some modicum of sense. If she could heal from an obviously fatal stab wound then maybe, just _maybe_ , she won't have to go through _that_. Maybe she wasn't even affected by _that_ anymore. Maybe she'd finally gone bonkers. It wasn't like she was ever that lucky for such a thing, anyway, so perhaps she really had gone loopy. 

With that thought in mind, she sat up and looked at her surroundings. It was dark.

What an _astute_ observation! Clearly, you would put Sherlock's skills to shame. Who needed Sherlock (no one gave a shit about Watson to begin with anyway) when you have this _utter genius_?

Jesus she hated her sarcastic inner-monologuing.

Y/n was rather surprised that the slight pain she felt upon landing had immediately dissipated, but she decided not to dwell on it too much so that she could consider what she should do next. Scaling the walls to climb up the hole was a no-go: a completely impossible manoeuvre without the proper equipment. So, that left her to aimlessly wander around wherever the hell she was, and hope that she found a way out. 

She was about to stand when she heard a squeaky, chipper voice.

"Howdy!"

Y/n, in her confusion, gawked at what she saw. Indeed, she truly had gone bonkers. Before her was a large sunflower, with a giant green eye and barbed teeth. It was smiling, clearly in attempts to placate her frazzled mind. Of course, that didn't exactly work. No: it was the creepiest thing the woman had ever seen.

Had someone drugged her, and she was hallucinating? Was that why all of the crazy crap was happening? A large part of her was convinced that she was imagining all this, and the blast from the exploded microwave had caused her to hit her head so hard that in her last dying moments, she was imagining whatever crap that was. Should she say something? In the state she was in, she was unsure if she'd be able to utter a single syllable. 

She chose to play it safe. If this was all that she suspected (some sort of fucked up fever dream), then it technically wouldn't matter if she acted foolishly or wisely. If this was real...? Yeah, she definitely wouldn't waste her one chance she had to live.

"'Sup?" Y/n had to admit, she could have been far more articulate than that. To be fair, could she really be blamed for such a reaction? A gnarled savage looking flower was looking and talking to her.

"I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower. Golly, you must be so confused right now, but not to worry! I'll teach ya how all about this place." rather than it's grin be reassuring, it was downright terrifying. Flowey continued, "Ready? Here we go!" It's ripped, wilted, pale golden petals twitched. They twitched again. And again. And again. It's singular eye seemed to narrow, the green iris blazing as it seemed incredibly irritated by something.

"Why won't it work?" muttered Flowey quietly in irritated puzzlement. Y/n reckoned she wasn't supposed to hear that.

"What are you trying to do, exactly?" she questioned in suspicion, rising to her feet as she looked down at the... _Flower_. It reached her knee, but what she assumed was supposed to be it's face (but was just a singular eye with no facial features to speak of) was as large as her own, if not bigger the more she thought on it.

"I'm just trying to help out a new pal!" replied Flowey with feigned enthusiasm. Y/n didn't know why (maybe it was the fact that it was talking or the large fucking eye it had instead of an actual distinguishable face), but she just didn't trust it. Y/n had been rather good at reading people, ever since she found out about _that_ , so it wasn't exactly hard for her to notice how fake it's happiness was, as well as the facade of friendliness. 

Shaking it's head, it beamed up at Y/n. "You seem to be taking this well! Not many have been so calm about this."

"So I'm not the only one, then?" How many people had fallen down and greeted this flower? 

"Yep!" nodded Flowey, but something told her that she wasn't exactly supposed to pick up on that implication. She could have been mistaken, but Y/n could have sworn she saw realisation briefly flicker across his envy-green eyeball before it just as quickly disappeared. "It's a shame, really." sighed Flowey with fake despondence.

"What is...?" Y/n wasn't sure she wanted the answer. She covertly gazed at her surroundings, really wanting to get as far away from this fake-arse flower as fast as she could. Obviously, that gut feeling was for good reason as it's already sharp teeth grew larger and wider, yellowed and stained red at the tips.

"That you don't have a soul for me to take."

Before she could react, thick thorny vines wrapped around her, digging into her flesh as she writhed and struggled. "Still," he continued in deliberation, a sadistic glint in his eye as her bones began to splinter and crack, "won't make killing you any less fun!"

She heard a snap and crunch, pain clouding her vision. She couldn't maintain her consciousness, so it wasn't long before her agonised screams were silenced. Y/n couldn't decide if this was due to the vines around her neck, or she really did just pass out. Before she completely faded, she heard the flower abomination speak. "I know what I'll do! Instead of handing your body over, I'll leave you here to rot! That's what the smiley trashbag gets for messing with me. Oh! I'll even tell him! The look on his face that there is food available for him and that idiot, and that they can't even get to it, will be priceless!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Just wanted to thank you for reading! I hope it's alright and that you wanna read more.
> 
> Anyways, hope you all have a great day~! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps,
> 
> I know its been awhile, I'm srry about that. I've just been really busy, but I'll try to write more soon (that includes my other fics too).
> 
> Anyways, hope you all enjoy~ :)

When Y/n awoke, she was, surprisingly, unscathed. Had it been a dream-?

Nope. She was still wearing that _atrocious_ outfit she ordinarily wouldn't have been caught _dead_ in. Well it seemed, at least for a brief moment, that she _had_ been caught dead in it. In a sense, that was.

Although, the more the woman thought on it, the more she was beginning to doubt her own sanity (not that she wasn't doing that to begin with, of course). Her jacket was even more blooded and ripped, holes having been gouged as though something had stabbed upward and through the material. She sat up, checking herself for any wounds. Again, she was surprised that there was none. Once she wiped away at the blood with her sleeves, she didn't have a single scratch on her.

What the hell...?

Y/n knew she should be dead. Four times she should have greeted the eternal abyss or flames of the fiery pit, but she hadn't. At the very least, she should be in agonising pain- but she _wasn't_.

Was she in a coma again...?

No. Although her situation was surreal, border-line _insane_ , she knew the sensations she had experienced were far too vivid to have been fabricated by her mind. She honestly had no idea how to process any of what had just transpired, didn't even know where to begin.

She shook her attend in attempts to clear her mind. Y/n knew that it wasn't the time for an emotional break, so instead she focused all her efforts in getting the _hell_ out of _wherever_ the hell she was. Once she stood, she was even more astonished that her twisted ankle was no longer hurting. She almost wanting to burst out into hysterics at the thought. She was marvelling at how her twisted ankle didn't hurt and not the fact that there were no longer any ribs poking out of her flesh.

Again, she needed to sort out her priorities.

Y/n inspected her surroundings far more diligently, and breathed a sigh of relief that Flowey was nowhere to be found. Before her was what appeared to be old ruins of a building of some kind, and was only barely visible due to the sunshine beaming down the hole she had fallen through. How long had she been unconscious...? It didn't matter. What mattered, was getting out of the hobbit hole she had found herself in, and getting some help.

Steeling herself, the denim-clad woman cautiously walked through the large archway and into a large open area. Perhaps going into a dark, dingy, dilapidated ruin wasn't such a good idea. Especially without a sodding flashlight. It wasn't as though she had a choice, though. Y/n didn't exactly feel confident enough to shout through the hole to get any help, and she had no clue if that would just alert the flower that she was still alive (or something else).

She felt around the place, using her foot to make sense of the floor before taking her next steps. Her hands were held in front of her body, feeling around the archway as she continued. Once she was completely through, she flinched when the sconces on the walls lit up. Why did an abandoned building have automatic lights? She oddly found the thought funny, especially when it came to the horrendous condition of the place.

The walls were a faded yellow, the bricks chipped and scratched. Hell, some of the bricks were even missing, with deep gouges that looked like claw-marks. Of course, that would be ridiculous. Nothing that she knew of was large enough to make such indentations. The eerie quiet sent chills down her spine, the lights flickering as the dim flames swayed. As she walked on, she couldn't help but notice the strange piles of dust that were scattered oddly, as though someone had spread a relative's ashes and didn't bother to do it right.

The woman couldn't make heads or tales of her situation. Wait, was that a house? How and why was there a house in- well, wherever the bloody hell she was? The bricks were cracked, some missing and some hanging out of the structure as though someone or something had attempted to pull them out. The stairs leading up to the building were in the same decrepit condition, and the decayed tree that stood before the woman sent her mind into a frenzy.

Who in their right mind would leave the shitting door open in a place like this?!

Y/n cautiously looked around, anxiety spiking which physically manifested as goose bumps along her flesh. Should she just barge in? Under any other circumstances, she wouldn't have dared consider such a thing. It was incredibly rude, and she dreaded the thought of insulting whatever may have resided in that house. However, she knew that she had to investigate, or at least make sure that the feeling of being watched was entirely her paranoia or something else entirely. Not only that, but it was the only place she had seen that may lead her to getting some help, or at the very least meet another human.

She doubted she had enough luck for that last part.

The woman nervously placed one foot in front of the other, taking deliberately slow steps towards the entrance. Looking around once more, she reluctantly entered the building. It was in shambles, looking even worse than it did on the outside (a feat in an of itself). The lights from what looked to be oil lamps lit, revealing further the utter carnage that was in front of her. The wooden floorboards were turned up and splintered, long elongated claw marks along the peeling wallpaper and a broken mirror that had shattered everywhere, making everything seem to have a shining sheen to it.

It was then that she noticed a staircase that led to presumably a lower level. Deciding that she'd check that out last (it definitely wasn't out of the fear of going into a basement or anything, especially due to the reminder of every horror movie cliché), she turned to her right. Oh no. A corridor? Seriously? Life really hated the poor woman, didn't it?

Wanting to save that for last too, she span on her heel and walked to the left of where she just came in, minding the random piles of dust as she went. Each step resulted in a loud, deafening creak of protest from the floor, interrupting the terrifying silence that seemed to cloak the whole area in a sense of dread and doom. Dread and doom that encompassed her own meaningless being, numbing her mind in chilling fear. 

Y/n thought that her dramatics were _very_ well justified.

It had been awhile since she had felt such a way... Not since, well... Not since she found out about _that_. Although, she noted that there were two key differences between then and what she was feeling at that moment. For one, the first time she felt such a way was more so on behalf of her family and friends (that had ultimately left her in the end- not that she blamed them, she would have done the same thing too if she knew someone that went through what she had), whilst as she roamed the wrecked living room, she felt the debilitating fear for her own sake. Also, another key difference was that she had no future to be worried about back then - at that moment, she knew that at last, she finally had a future, one that could be easily taken away from her. Well, if she was being honest with herself, that was up for debate given how she should have died three times yet she was _still_ alive and kicking.

Her intuition told her that she didn't have that anymore, but that still didn't mean she fancied testing the odds and seeing if the next time she died would be a permanent thing.

In front of her was a small kitchen, the cupboards broken and hanging, the fridge tossed aside and the stove broken beyond repair. It seemed to be a general theme of the building's 'internal decorating' - destruction and utter carnage. Y/n noted that there wasn't anything in there (not even a single crumb), so, she walked through the living room again and into the main entranceway. Something told her that she wouldn't exactly find much in the rooms that were in the corridor given the current trend of the place, thus she turned her wary gaze to the stairs.

She steeled her resolve, holding her head high as she tip-toed down them. When she reached the bottom, she stifled a groan. Another corridor. Perfect! That was just fucking perfect! As if one corridor was enough! Clearly, it wasn't, because there was yet another fucking one!

Y/ really needed to calm down.

The human inhaled deeply, then exhaled. She could do it. She knew she could. Not that she had a choice, really. It wasn't like she had found anywhere else that could lead to somewhere important. As she stiffly walked through the corridor, she stumbled over something. Y/n held in a shriek, expecting that she had walked on someone given the material. However, she was surprised to be met with a torn velvet dress that was rather modest in style, and purple in colour. An insignia of sorts was on it, but was too dirty from dust and too ripped to be fully made out.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she continued, eventually rounding a corner and being met with an extremely large door. This too had what seemed to be the same strange symbol as the dress, but again, she couldn't make it out due to it being peeled. As she scrutinised the door further, she paled. The bottom and sides of the door looked to have been desperately scratched at, as though something was trying to escape. The human woman supressed a shiver, bravely taking a few steps forward before she was stood a mere metre away from it. Was this open like the front door...?

Perhaps Lady Luck had finally decided to grace the woman with her presence and give her a break, as the heavy door (under much protest) opened. Y/n struggled to keep it open due to the weight, but she managed to slide between the open space that it had provided. As she stepped out, a frozen, harsh wind whipped at her face, making her hiss in pain. 

She refused to acknowledge the fact that she practically shit herself when the door immediately closed behind her. As a snowy forest greeted her vision, she decided to nope the fuck out of there, and went to try the door again. "Wait, what...?" she mumbled in shock. The door had locked behind her. How the hell had that happened...? It was open before!

Apparently, Lady Luck had the mood swings of a woman with menopause.

Y/n heaved a sigh, turning her back to the door as she looked around. Why was everything so quiet? So barren? So... _Lifeless_? The human hadn't a clue, and it wasn't exactly like she wanted to fully ponder the when's, why's and how's. All she wanted- no, _needed_ , was to get out of wherever the fuck she was, and figure out what exactly the fuck she should do. 

She braced herself before walking along the snowy path. Well, it looked to have once been a path, but had long since just become an uneven patch of snow that stretched across the distance. Rotten trees surrounded her, swaying in the wind. Did she seriously have to go to a cold place? Why couldn't she have just popped up in the Bahamas? Hawaii? Hell, she would have fucking taken fucking Benidorm if she didn't have to face a fucking blizzard!

Sure, she may have been exaggerating when describing the slight breeze as a blizzard, but that didn't make it any less shitting cold God damn it! 

Still she trudged along, her shoes managing to soak up the snow, making her socks soggy. Ugh, she really hated having soggy socks! The woman then tightly wrapped the denim jacket around herself, glad that she wasn't in just the denim shirt (or just the denim shorts, as the leggings provided at least some warmth). The hair at the back of her neck suddenly stood on end.

Was something there...?

Y/n decided to risk it for a biscuit (God did she fancy a Jammie Dodger), and swerved her head to face behind her. Nothing, huh...?

Funnily enough, she had almost a sixth sense when it came to people looking at her. She could practically almost feel their probing gaze along her skin, much like a feather-light touch. It was disconcerting and unnatural, she knew. She had only got that 'ability' of sorts when she had to go through that awful period of time after she found out about _that_. 

The snap of a twig gained her attention, her eyes darting to her left, then quickly to her right as another snap was heard. Was it playing with her...? Maybe it was just a curious wolf? Or a pack of wolves that were hungry. Knowing how her luck had pretty much run out, she was guessing the latter more than the former. Clearly, something (or a group of somethings, she couldn't tell), was taunting her.

Silence once again returned, the air heavy in her lungs. Nothing moved, not even Y/n. The human didn't know what to do. Should she run? No. Whatever was _hunting_ her (she thought it both rather apt and terrifying to be referred as such) would know the area better than her. They could easily corner her somewhere so that she couldn't escape. Again, she couldn't hide for the same reason. Should she wait them out? She could be patient, that she knew (but only in specific circumstances- otherwise, she had an infamous short-temper).

Perhaps it was someone rather than something. It was plausible. Clearly, there had been people living wherever she was, so it wouldn't be too much to assume that maybe they migrated somewhere further up ahead. Maybe...

Should she call out then? Or would that just cause her more trouble? It might just catch the attention of something else, which really wouldn't be good.

Everything suddenly went a few shades darker in her vision. Wait, why was it so dark? Especially due to it only being around her? Had clouds covered the sky? She hadn't looked upwards yet, assuming that due to the area she was in that she must have been outside. Her brows furrowed, her eyes scrunching in deep thought. She looked up, surprised that she was still underground. So why was she shrouded in shadow...?

Wait, was something behind her...?

Dread felt as heavy as lead in her stomach, her blood rushing through her veins as though even her cells wanted to escape her situation. Emboldening herself, she slowly turned. She gaped at what stood before her. Had death finally come to collect the soul that was due?

Death grinned maliciously, "heya, cupcake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps,
> 
> Srry it was mostly filler, but I hope that it was alright (it was supposed to be kinda scary, so sorry if it just isn't lol at least I tried)
> 
> Anyways, hope you all have a great day, and thanks for reading~! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps! Here's another chap for you all, so I hope u enjoy!
> 
> Btw, I'll be doing some sort of code per chap for u to figure out. (probs won't even be hard lol), it'll be relevant to the story, so it won't be completely random, and it will all make more sense as the chaps go on (but it shouldn't change anything even if you don't do it).
> 
> I'll give u it at the end to use.
> 
> BTW, this kind of mentions thoughts of suicide (kind of), thought I'd warn u

After many nights envisioning how death would greet her, and how the Grim Reaper would look when finally claiming her life, she had never quite imagined that Death would look like this. The woman imagined a lanky, looming figure covered in a cloak darker than a starless night sky, their empty sockets devoid of life and impassively staring into her own clouded ones impassively. Many a night, she had imagined that it would be painful, not the least bit swift but as her own experience of time struck it's final toll, the clock having stopped completely, that the last thing she would see would be death's void-like sockets before true eternal darkness numbed her to the point of non-existence. Of course, this was just her imagination running wild, a last hope of hers that darkness would finally embrace her (it was something to pass the time with). Sure, she may have been dramatic when such thoughts plagued her in the silence, the only thing audible was the cheap plastic clock that hung on the sickeningly familiar sterile white walls.

The human had been far too lucky, it seemed. How cruel Lady Luck must have been- giving her a life that was never meant to be, a chance that she knew all too well that she was owed, and then for it to be snatched away... 

It broke whatever heart that had been somewhat revived break.

The pain was excruciating, but it quickly abated, leaving behind the all too familiar non-feeling that could have only been described by her as an unnatural calm, one in which nothing fazed her. Not the chill of the wind, not the soft snow, not the warped decaying trees, not the knowledge that there were no stars above her head, nor the fact that Death seemed to be drooling for some odd reason.

Well, it at least looked to be drool. Yellowed, jagged sharp teeth were oozing rust-coloured viscous saliva, dripping down their chipped jaw bone. Death's bones were thicker than what she had imagined, their ribs being as thick as her neck, at the very least. Death also stood a good three feet taller than herself, making her crane her neck to fully look at them.

Some of Death's saliva landed on her cheek, but she didn't care. Nor did she care about how it repulsed her, practically sticking to her flesh as it seemed to be oddly warm and thick. Even in her apathetic state, the only thing that really gathered her attention was the large bright orb of mahogany that seemed to be directly at her. It peered through Death's left eye socket, the right being eerily reminiscent of her imaginings.

To be fair, what also surprised her most was the fact that he wore both a jacket and slippers that seemed to be of the same material, looking to have been home made. If she was to have taken a guess, it seemed to her that Death was an avid hunter, making use of a deer's hide and making clothes of leather from it. Their stained, tattered shirt that she assumed must have been white at one point in time also seemed to have sewn patches into it, as though clothes made far too small for his frame were cut up and used to sew the holes that had been on. Not only that, but Death also, rather strangely, had a pair of stretched and withered black basketball shorts that barely reached their mid-thigh bone.

Obviously, it seemed that Death was just as enthralled as the human, but clearly for different reasons. It was then that she finally was able to comprehend that not only had Death spoke, but had in fact called her 'cupcake'......

......

......

_'Cupcake'_......

......

......

If she hadn't already given up on life, that alone would have surely done it.

With a burdened sigh and eyes that looked as though they had aged, she unwaveringly looked up at Death. "Are you going to get on with it, then?"

Her voice seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. Death's grin seemed to widen, a feat that in her indifferent state seemed to minutely impress her. If she was in her regular state of mind, well, she would have swiftly kicked him where the sun don't shine and made a dash for the hills. She had an inkling that Death probably didn't have the necessary _package_ for that to actually hurt, but she knew that she would have at least found out if the Grim Reaper was in fact well-hung.

"heh, don' think ah' see wha' ya gettin' a' there, cupcake." although Death's grin hadn't faltered, it was evident that behind their evident blood-lust that they were rather confused, as well as somewhat surprised if the raise of their cracked brow-bone was anything to go by. The more the human observed Death, the more her expectations seemed to have been blown out the window. Although she passively acknowledged how if it wasn't her standing before Death, that she would have found the idea of him looking so haggard, scarred and all-around cracked and chipped would have been cool. Intimidating, piss-inducing scary, but cool nonetheless. However, the fact that she couldn't at least have one thing be right somewhat pissed her off, if only slightly, as her brain was still buzzing with the familiar feeling disinterest.

If she took the time to fully recognise her emotions, she would have also realised that she was feeling an overwhelming sense of acceptance.

A smile curled at her lip when she fully considered her predicament. Well, if Death was going to take her and Lady Luck was going to be such a fucking bitch whether she liked it or not, she may as well have some fun, right?

"Oh, you know." she smirked. Originally, she was talking about Death just taking her soul. Though, she knew more than anyone that plans often change. "A woman wandering the woods... Vulnerable... Alone.... You gonna get to it or what? That's if you can, that is. Doubt you can, given your... _State_."

Death's smile faltered slightly, looking puzzled as they scratched at the edge of their jagged empty socket. Death propped up a sharp and shining hatchet on their shoulder. How long had Death been carrying that? The woman half expected it to be a scythe. What kind of Grim Reaper were they? Some fucked-up lovechild of 'Papa Jupiter' from The Hills Have Eyes and Leatherface from Texas Chainsaw Massacre?

"ya los' me, cupcake." admitted Death. They then shrugged, holding the sharp end of the hatchet with their opposite hand. "no' tha' it ma'ers, though."

"Why's that?" she inquired.

Death's orb-like light focused on her, their grin serrated. "'cause, ya' gonna be dead."

Before she could even take another breath, it had been mercilessly snatched from her. She fell to her knees and collapsed on the ground, her neck gaping and blood gushing like a guizer from the wound. Her spinal cord would have been visible if it wasn't for the mass amount of blood pouring out of her. 

"shame ah' can' make any furthah use ah ya soul. yah know, 'cause ya don' 'ave one? welp, leas' i go' food fah mah bros. tha's all tha' really ma'ers, anyway."

* * *

🆂🆃🅰🆈 🅳🅴🆃🅴🆁🅼🅸🅽🅴🅳, 🆈/🅽! 🆆🅴 🅱🅴🅻🅸🅴🆅🅴 🅸🅽 🆈🅾🆄, 🆂🅾 🅳🅾🅽'🆃 🅶🅸🆅🅴 🆄🅿!

* * *

Who was that? That voice... It was familiar, yet not...

Weird.

Although, not as weird as her current predicament. 

At that moment, she was strapped to a large wooden table that looked to have been hand carved, the rope rubbing the flesh of her wrists and ankles raw, the splinters of the table stabbing into her sore skin. 

Surprisingly, her neck wasn't in any pain. The young human woman was honestly surprised that she wasn't in any more pain other than the discomfort of being tied up. She was being surprised a great deal that day. Well, if it was still day. She had no concept of time, and it really grated on her nerves. She had had enough of that feeling to last her a lifetime.

When she turned her head and examined the table further she noticed the many old stains that seemed to have soaked into the wood, in very much a similar position she was. It was fresh enough for it to have been her own blood. Wait, wasn't she about to be claimed by Death? To finally feel the sweet release that came along with it?

So why in God's name was she tied to a shitting table?!

Was that skeleton not actually the Grim Reaper? Like that flower monstrosity?

If it wasn't Death, what the fuck were they?!

It was complete bullshit! Why the shitting hell wasn't she dead? She should be dead!

Not to mentioned that her already spoiled clothes were beyond any possible repair, even by a professional seamstress and dry-clean. Well, she had to admit, it was certainly an improvement (it was a ghastly outfit, after all). So, what exactly should she do?

Before she could make an attempt to escape, she heard the creaking of a door, then the deliberately quiet closing of it, as though they were scared that someone was listening, or that they would be discovered and heard. Did they know she was alive? No! They couldn't. How could they, anyway?

"yah see, wings? wha' did ah tell ya? gotta nice, fresh human ripe fah the ea'in. heh, wings, _meat_ corpse cupcake, corpse cupcake, _meat_ wings. heh, no need tah be so _stiff_ , s'not like 'e 'as a _bone-ta-pick_ wit' ya. damn, real _cold_ tha' one, eh, wings? won' even go tah the trouble ah _wake_ 'in up tah gree' ya. not tha' she can, 'cause she's dead." 

The young woman recognised that voice, That bastard! So they had killed her, huh? Real nice greeting, that. And the shitting pun! Wasn't she cursed enough?!

Lady Luck was a cheap whore, and no one could tell Y/n any differently.

Y/n turned to face to her left, only to be met with two skeletons: one she recognised, who had their back to her, perusing through their assortment of knives, and a new one the human could only assume was 'Wings'. This being too was a skeleton, only he was the tallest person Y/n had ever seen, standing at _at least_ nine foot. This skeleton too seemed to be as cracked and marred as their counterpart, with an especially painful looking dark crack that ran diagonally across his face at a thirty degree angle, from the top of his right socket to the bottom left corner of his gnarled teeth. Well, when she described them as teeth, she was using the term liberally, as although they were made of bone much like any tooth was, they more so resembled barbed wire that was as thick as her index and middle finger combined: rows upon rows of these teeth crowded their mouth, which also made him look as though he had the maw of a great white shark.

His eyes were what seemed to make her snap out of her apathetic state, her much smaller form stifling a shiver of fear. They were the colour of a sky ablaze, as though literally set on callously left to burn as all life shrivelled and melted under the heat, the deep orangish red hue scrutinising her intently. Their tattered and ripped black lab coat didn't help matters, nor did their ripped black trousers that had many teared holes in the fabric. 

Without tearing his glare away from Y/n, he tilted his head slightly in the fellow skeleton's directions as the shorter, stouter skeleton ambled around their array of tools. "Sans."

"hmm?" hummed the other skeleton, presumably called 'Sans' and not Death as Y/n had originally thought.

"You killed the human female, correct?"

"heh, sugar an' spice, sliced an' diced - all things nice an' sacrificed." chuckled Sans sadistically, picking up a particularly large butcher knife which was rusted, before shaking his head and continuing his perusal of all the other tools he had. 

"Interesting." he mumbled, his eyes roaming her form and lingering on all the blood, as well as the rips in clothing from where the blood clearly originated from. "How long ago was this?"

"jus' a couple ah 'ours. don' worry, still fresh enough tah ea'." reassured Sans, believing that his brother was worried that Y/n wouldn't be edible for any of them.

"Very interesting..." he mumbled, his fist clenched and popping up his head in thought, much like that thinker statue Y/n had seen on the internet. 

"wha' ya say, wings?"

"Oh, it's nothing of consequence really, just that she seems to still be alive."

"heh, risen from the dead, 'as she bro?" chuckled Sans. His amusement immediately evaporated as soon as he found that yes, she was indeed still alive.

"wha'... the actual... _fuck_...?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps
> 
> Wanted to thank u for reading!
> 
> Hope u all have a great day~! :)
> 
> Here's the decoder to use:
> 
> One from the left (O), and Two from the right (B, O)
> 
> This answer will form the entire word (meaning u won't have to search singular letters, as the word is already essentially together for u to decrypt)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Here's another chap for u, so I hope u enjoy!
> 
> Btw, I've already given up on the code thing, lol. But I'll still do the mini-messages (as they are relevant to the story).
> 
> The word from the previous chap, well, the code was relating to the coloured letters. Soon realised that this feature wouldn't have made it solvable if someone was using a phone. Anyways, it was "Boo."

Silence was thick in the small, cabin-like room that Y/n had unfortunately found herself in. She was unnerved and disconcerted, not knowing exactly what she should do. Should she try to escape? It wasn't exactly a wise decision, she knew. Their long legs and inevitably long strides would make quick work of catching up to her, even if she did find a way to get out of her bindings and make a run for the door. The more she thought on it, the more she questioned whether or not she should be bothered either way. From all the times she had died, it was clear that there were two distinct possibilities: one, that it would take far more that dying by ordinary means to actually make her kick the bucket or two, that she couldn't actually die. Whilst the former made more sense, she knew that the latter was indeed very possible and, due to the nonsensical things that had already occurred and still baffled her when she recalled such events, that it was indeed very likely. So, that begged the question of whether or not she should even be scared in the first place.

Although, she also suspected that whether she should or shouldn't be scared was a moot point. After all, she was already petrified.

"shouldn' ya be dead, cupcake?" questioned the stout skeleton known as "Sans", presumably. "i know i ain' no expert on humans, but am pre'y sure ya should be dead righ' 'bout now."

The young woman remained quiet, continuing to eye the pair as they continued to look at her. Y/n thought that he'd probably give it another go, killing her again until finding out that no, she wasn't going to die so easily. That would inevitably raise questions that she knew she couldn't answer. She wasn't so sure if the healing was only something that happened after she died, or if she healed as soon as she was injured. Based on her kidnapper's previous actions, she knew that he would be all too happy to test that out.

God did she _really_ not want to test it out.

Perhaps some of her infamous signature of being a complete smartarse was in order? Piss a little wisdom on her would-be consumers? Ugh, that thought just reminded her of her loathsome job as a checkout worker of a grotty little shit-pit of a store. It was rather funny: the thought of not having to work in that place actually seemed to be the one ray of sunshine in the heap of shit of a situation that she had found herself in.

Deciding that yes, some punishment in the form of annoying the shit out of them was in order, she attempted to have a straight face as she said, "And how would you exactly define death, hmm? The time of which someone's eyes close for the last time, when their last heartbeat thumps it's last beat, when their organs cease to function, when their brain begins to decay? Or, is it perhaps when the very last living cell dies, or when their carcass is finally used as nutrients for a thing still living? Or, is it even perhaps something far more obscure? When someone speaks of them no more, or the very last memory of them is ultimately forgotten by the last person alive who knew them?" As an afterthought she continued, "Anyway, it's not you're one to talk. You're a skeleton- by default, shouldn't you also be dead?"

"interestin' series ah questions, cupcake. i'd say tha' death is when my trusty li'l 'elper," he raised his hatchet, lovingly caressing the sharp serrated blade, the metal glinting in the poor lighting of the room, "makes it's final swing."

She cursed internally at how unfazed he was. Usually, it freaked out people enough that they'd be distracted for a second or two, but not this skeleton. His grin widened, blood-lust sparkling in his dilated light-of-an-eye. She really wanted to get under is proverbial skin. After all, it was the least she could do for him having killed her, if only briefly (and it wasn't like he knew she would raise from the dead). Just to be an annoying little shit, she smirked, "And look how well that went last time."

The comment had its desired effect as his eyesocket seemed to twitch (Y/n still couldn't wrap her head around how his bone could be so malleable to mimic expressions that used skin and muscle). However, he seemed to shrug nonchalantly before raising his weapon, "don' ma'er anyhow. s'ppose it'll only take one more swing, an' me an' my bros'll have a feast tah last us a few weeks if we ration righ'."

Before he could, he was interrupted when his brother interrupted him, "Perhaps we should postpone dinner preparations, for now."

Sans was completely befuddled, his arcing swing faltering in his grasp as he lowered his weapon, placing it on the table. "an why's tha', wings?"

Wing's expression turned more thoughtful as his gaze continued to peruse Y/n's form. His eyelights seemed to gleam slightly as he finally looked at his much shorter (but still huge) brother. "She may be far more valuable alive than not." he finally replied, which seemed to both puzzle Sans more and irritate him.

"it ain' anothah one a yah s'periments, righ'? 'cause i really nee' tah say i'm completely agains' the idea. i say, we just cut 'er up, chop 'er up, maybe stew 'er a li'l if tha's wha' paps wan's, then use 'er leftovers for things we need. hell, don' we need a new shower curtain 'cause paps used it for one ah his traps?"

This made Wings scowl as he fully turned to face his brother. "Do not be a fool, Sans. Think of what we may gain by not consuming her now. Would you not agree how beneficial it would be to fully test out her full potential? If she is unable to die by conventional means, than what does that exactly imply about her regenerative abilities? What makes her heal? What would actually kill her?"

"all i care about," growled Sans, "is you an paps havin' food tah ea'. we 'ave food righ' 'ere, wings. we can' affor' tah go an s'periment like we used tah do. sure, it was all fun tah do while the good times lasted, bu' righ' now, we can' afford tah do that." His omnipresent grin curved in a solemn smile. "i did everythin' yah as'ed back then, wings. i still do. jus' do me one favour and do the same fah me?"

The same sort of smile then graced Wings' features as he looked down at his brother. "You know full well that not searching for answers is against my nature. I am a scientist, after all, and a scientist needs to continue to falsify theories to fully fulfil their purpose. Cause and effect must be established. It is how we are born, how we continue to exist and how we shall later become dust. Sans, this must be done, for the best of reasons."

"yah ain' a scientist no more, wings. an' neither am i, fah tha' ma'er. all we are now are skele'on monsters tryin' tah live in a 'kill or be killed' world. we aren' made to ask questions an' find answers in times like these. sleepin', eatin' an livin' are our purpose now, wings. why can' yah understan' tha'?"

Wing's eyelights seemed to flare and blaze in broiling wrath. "This is not my purpose, Sans! I can not take living like this! Sleep! Eat! _Kill_! Live! _Die_! I can not do it anymore, Sans!" 

Sans grew even more enraged in response, his empty eyelight glowing as his eyelight in the opposite socket extinguished. "well, whoop-de-doo, wings, 'cause life don' give a shit! oh, boohoo, i can' tes' my theories out! boohoo, i can' mess wit' mah chemistry set! boohoo, i can' keep my min' entertained, 'cause life is _so_ boring! oh, _boohoo_ , i can' break the barrier! 'course yah can'! we're stuck down 'ere forever, an' there ain't nothin' you can do abou' it!"

"You do not know anything, Sans! We have an opportunity right here! You would be utterly imbecilic to let it pass by like you did the last time a human fell!"

"that wasn' my faul' an you know it, wings!"

" _What did you do_?!" bellowed Wings, his back ramrod straight and his eyelights resembling burning coals in a fireplace. " _What did you do_ when they came down here?! _What did you do_ when they set us free then came back only to kill us all and break the barrier anyway?! _What did you do_ , when you saw them at their weakest point, a perfect opportunity to which I even offered my assistance in dealing with the human?! What did you do?! _Absolutely nothing_!"

"it ain' my place you arrogan' prick! i'm the judge, jury, an' executioner, a position _you_ fuckin' gave me! it wasn' in my job description to _do_ anythin'! i punish sins, i don' jus' up an murder a kid!"

"Even when that child killed me, Sans? Even when they dusted _every. Single. Soul._ Every single person they had befriended, every single person who came to care about them and love them as though they were their own child?! For heaven's sake, Sans, they killed Papyrus! _Papyrus_! Our sweet youngest brother who harmed no one, was slowly tortured with every single bone in his body broken before he finally was beheaded?!"

"an where were you?!" shouted Sans. "in yah fuckin' li'l minimum-wage job doin' _wha'ever_ the fuck yah were up tah in that rinky-dink lab you'd sooner call a home than your _own_ place where me an paps were!"

"I was doing what was necessary, you fool!"

"an' jus' look at where we are now!" snorted Sans bitterly. "the same fuckin' place we've always been!"

"At least I tried, Sans! At least I did not sit back and watch as our baby brother was brutally murdered by that demon over and over again!"

Both brothers were breathing heavily, too exhausted to continue their fight. Their bones rattled as they avoided eye-contact with one another, wanting to be any place but in the presence of one another. They began to calm down, magic dissipating as their trembling's eventually ceased. It was tensely silent for a long while before Wings sighed, rubbing between his sockets to try and rub away at his frown. He sighed, "That was... Uncalled for-"

"-i'd say so."

"-and I should not have gone that far. I'm sorry Sans." continued Wings, ignoring his brother's interruption to avoid another argument.

"...i guess i wen' a bi' far, too. sorry, bro." said Sans genuinely, his smile nervous as he looked up at his older brother.

"We were both in the wrong." nodded Wings. "We're just stressed and disagreeable due to our hunger. We meant nothing by it."

"nah, it's cool bro. _no skin off my nose_. 'sides," his grin turned sadistic as he licked his teeth, "i do believe we 'ave a li'l food that could solve the problem. an' if we leave a bi' o' her left, guess we could see the results. hell, may even get a farm goin'."

"As distasteful as the phrasing is," smirked Wings, his eyelights once more glowing vibrantly which only showed a deep ravenous hunger, "I'm inclined to agree." Both of the brothers turned to their soon-to-be dinner before their sockets widened, eyelights extinguishing.

One the table was the rope that had tied the woman down, the knife he was going to use on her gone from the table and was nowhere to be seen, much like the human. Upon closer examination , they realised that she had actually cut up the rope and positioned them to form letters. The brothers growled at what they read, seething: "Adios bitches. Hope to see you never!"

* * *

˙sɯoʇ-ɓuıdǝǝd ɥɔns ɓuıǝq ɹoɟ ǝsuǝdɯoɔǝɹ uı op uɐɔ noʎ ʇsɐǝl ǝɥʇ sı pǝɹɐɔs ɓuıǝᙠ ˙ʎllɐǝɹ 'os ɟı ǝɯɐɥs ∀ ˙ʇ,upıp I ɟı pɐq oo⊥ ¿I pıp 'noʎ ǝɹɐɔs ʇ,upıp I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Just wanted to thank u all so much for the hits, kudos and bookmarks! Seeing u enjoy this makes me happy, and really motivates me to write more (same could be said for my other fics tbh).
> 
> Anyways, hope u all have a great day and thanks for reading!
> 
> (srry for any mistakes)


End file.
